


Dark Days

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-14
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8089879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Something from Trip's dark days comes back to haunt him. (07/28/2005)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: For Lt Black Fire, who'd wanted a T/R hurt/comfort story. I tried for that, but the stars did not align precisely as she directed. Still, I hope she likes it.  


* * *

"Malcolm, wait up!"

Malcolm turned in the crowded corridor. Seeing Trip jogging to catch him, he stopped just outside the mess hall doors as Trip reached his side. Unfortunately, this was a busy spot, with people swirling in and out of the mess. Each time the doors opened, they released the scent of tomato and curry, causing Malcolm's stomach to growl in hunger.

"Sorry, I wanted to catch you before I have to go on shift," Trip said. "You got a second?"

Glancing towards the mess, Malcolm nodded reluctantly.

Trip grasped Malcolm's arm at the elbow and pulled him to the side of the narrow hall, away from the general swarm of people bustling in and out of the nearby doors. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked, his hand still at Malcolm's elbow as he leaned towards the other man, the shield of his body creating a fairly private space around them.

Malcolm's brow wrinkled and he looked up at Trip. "I have no plans at present. Why?"

"Movie night," Trip said quickly, releasing his arm. "I know you don't normally go, but I picked a film special, 'War of the Worlds'. Lots of explosions. I think you'll like it." He smiled warmly. Then, suddenly looking a bit nervous, he asked, "Would you come with?"

Malcolm felt himself start to smile. "I'd like that."

Trip bit the side of his lower lip, staring down into Malcolm's eyes. "Good," he said finally. Malcolm got a whiff of his aftershave, dark and spicy, before he stepped back, his eyes twinkling. "See you there, 'round eight—sorry, twenty-hundred hours?"

Malcolm nodded, his heart thumping as he watched Trip move off. Now that was interesting, he thought. Although the conversation could be taken either way, he was fairly sure Trip had just asked him on a date.

Watching the last of the crowd enter the mess, he leant against the wall, trying hard not to smile, or laugh, or jump up and down or some other inappropriate expression of excitement. Trip's invitation had been a bit surprising, he thought, but he was certainly willing to try. After all, it would be nice to have a romantic interest, and he did have to admit, Trip was a nice looking bloke, if occasionally a bit over-enthusiastic.

Still, he was certain that he could find a way to channel that enthusiasm.

Whistling happily, Malcolm stepped into the mess.

* * *

Walking away from the armoury, Malcolm spied Trip at the other end of the corridor, coming towards him from the opposite direction. Trip smiled broadly at the sight of him, and he couldn't help but smile back. The man had an infectious grin.

As Trip reached Malcolm's side, he spun himself around theatrically, changing direction and walking beside Malcolm.

"Lieutenant," Trip said happily.

"Commander," Malcolm replied in kind.

"Still coming to the movie later?" Trip asked.

"Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it."

"Good," Trip said.

Malcolm felt Trip's fingers rest on his arm, so he paused.

"I have some stuff to do first. Hoshi tells me that I got a package. I've got mail!" Trip said with obvious eagerness.

Malcolm knew from experience that their chances to receive non- electronic mail had been few and far between, although that had certainly improved with this current docking at Jupiter Station. "Who from?" he replied.

"No idea," Trip said. He smiled. "See you at eight?"

Malcolm nodded, then watched Trip turn and head away again.

* * *

Malcolm sat, restless, in the last row of chairs in the darkened room, the film flickering on the screen to the front, an empty seat beside him. Peering over the heads of the crowd, he scanned one last time for Trip. It had been a half hour since the film began, and still no sign of the man. Trip had been known to be late before, certainly, but forty-five minutes? And after confirming the time twice? Something was wrong.

Malcolm stood and left the room, blinking against the bright lights of the corridor, then moved in the direction of Trip's quarters. Maybe he'd misunderstood, he thought, although that seemed unlikely. Or maybe something urgent had come up, and Trip hadn't had the time to contact him.

Malcolm stood outside Trip's door and rang the chime. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Trip, still in uniform, looking tired.

"Are you all right?" Malcolm asked.

Trip leaned against the doorjamb. "Fine, Lieutenant. What can I do you for?"

Malcolm shifted uncomfortably. "We were supposed..."

"Oh, shit," Trip said quickly, suddenly standing straight and placing a hand over his mouth briefly. His eyes widened. "Oh, God. I'm sorry."

"Is everything all right?"

Trip nodded. "Other than the fact that I'm a complete idiot, yes, things are okay." He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.

"Are you sure you're..."

Trip waved him off with his hand. "Nah, I'm fine, just distracted. It's nothing. I'm sorry. Can we reschedule?"

"Tomorrow night? Dinner?"

Trip smiled. "That sounds great."

* * *

"What happened?" Malcolm asked from across the table. He'd just joined Hoshi and Travis for lunch, and had come in the midst of a story. He wasn't quite sure that he'd heard Travis correctly.

Travis raised an eyebrow and waved his pickle in Malcolm's direction. "Hess told me herself. She saw the solenoid lift off the shelf, hurtle through the air, and miss Trip's head by, like, a centimetre." He bit into the pickle.

"That's weird. It moved by itself?" said Hoshi.

Travis nodded, crunching happily.

Malcolm picked up his fork. "Do they know what caused it to move?" He took a bite from his salad.

"No," Travis said, shaking his head. "They thought it must have been an anomaly, but they found no trace of one afterwards."

Hoshi leaned forward across her plate. "Sounds kind of spooky."

Travis smiled. "Yup." He popped a chip into his mouth. "Bizarre," he murmured around his mouthful.

* * *

For the second time in as many days, Malcolm found himself outside Trip's quarters. This time he'd only waited twenty minutes before he gave up on the man. This was getting ridiculous.

Malcolm raised his hand to ring, then stopped, hand hovering over the chime. He stepped back and dropped his arm. Maybe Trip was just playing with him, he thought. He took a careful breath. After all, being stood up twice in two days had to be some sort of record.

Malcolm clenched his hands into fists. If Trip was trying some sort of game here...

Trip's door opened and he stepped out, head down, nearly colliding with Malcolm. "Sorry," Trip said, brushing past him without looking up.

Malcolm simply stood there, too surprised to move. Then he took several quick steps after Trip, eventually matching pace and walking beside him. "Commander," he said brusquely.

Trip's head snapped up and he froze in place, looking at Malcolm as if seeing him for the first time. "Yes?" he said.

Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest. Frowning, he asked, "Where were you?"

"Excuse me?"

Malcolm heaved an angry sigh. "Dinner, Commander?"

Trip nodded vaguely. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"That's twice in two days," Malcolm said, his anger building.

"What?" replied Trip, seeming bewildered.

Now Malcolm was confused. "The film last night, and now dinner."

"Right," Trip said, nodding slowly. "I didn't mean to blow you off, I just..." his voice trailed off and he shrugged. "Sorry."

Hurt overcoming his anger, Malcolm said more quietly, "What sort of game are you playing here, Commander?"

"There's no game, Malcolm. This doesn't involve you." Malcolm felt his anger come roaring back. Biting off his response, he strode off, not looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

Malcolm was stretching on the floor of his room, post work-out, during which we'd been trying to burn off some of his anger and frustration over the situation with Trip. He didn't like being taken for a fool.

He heard a knock on his door. That was odd, he thought, someone knocking instead of using the chime. He stood and triggered the door.

Trip stood there, looking guilty, bottle in hand.

Malcolm felt all the anger that he'd worked off earlier come rushing back. He stood stiffly in the doorway, saying nothing.

"Can I come in?" Trip asked after a moment.

Malcolm stood there, seriously considering closing the door in Trip's face. But...he just couldn't. Moving aside silently, he waved Trip through.

He watched as Trip went into the lav, returning with two glasses. Placing them on the desktop, Trip poured drinks from the bottle, then handed one to Malcolm without asking. He sat in Malcolm's desk chair and waved for Malcolm to sit on the bed.

As Malcolm settled stiffly on the edge of his mattress, Trip asked without preamble, "Do you have any deep, dark secrets?"

Malcolm hesitated, then said cautiously, "Don't we all?"

"No, I mean it, Malcolm." Trip leaned forward, cradling the glass between both hands. "You ever do anything that you're really ashamed of?"

Malcolm watched Trip carefully as he measured out his response. Trip looked deadly serious. Staring into Trip's eyes, Malcolm realised something else: his friend was scared. Trip actually seemed frightened. Malcolm nodded.

"Like what?" Trip asked, very quietly.

Malcolm slid backwards on the bed, then drew his legs up, sitting cross-legged on top of his duvet. He took a sip of his drink. "I had a friend in school. I knew that she was diabetic, but I didn't really realise..." He sighed, looking down at his drink. "One day on the bus, she started acting strangely. I suspected that something was wrong, but I left her there." He looked up at Trip. "I don't know why. I mean, looking back now, it's perfectly clear to me that I should have stayed, but at the time..." He shook his head. "I have every excuse in the world—I was young, I was scared." He looked back to Trip. "I should have stayed. I should have told the driver. I don't know why I didn't."

"Was she okay?"

"Later that same day. But still..." he stared into his drink, swirling the amber liquid in the glass. After a moment, he took another swallow, then shook his head. "I'm not sure what that says about me, about my character." He looked up at Trip. With false brightness, he asked, "And yourself?"

Trip nodded, then took a sip from his glass. He shot Malcolm a wan smile, then began speaking. "It was back in high school. At the time, I was feeling a lot of pressure—most of it self-imposed. It was like there were all these expectations on me, for being so bright, college applications, stuff like that, and I freaked." He raised his glass to Malcolm. "I dropped out of school." He downed the rest of his drink in one fast swallow. "I was sixteen."

Malcolm's eyes widened, and he tried to cover his surprise by sipping his drink.

Trip gave him a half-smile. "Wait, it gets worse." He reached behind him, to the bottle on the desk, poured himself another drink, then refilled Malcolm's glass. "I took off, ran away to New Orleans, spent my time drinking, smoking...stuff." He looked away from Malcolm. "Got into some harder drugs. Then we started stealing, you know," he looked back to Malcolm. "To fund our 'extracurricular activities'. It was one of the things we stole..."

"Wait," Malcolm said, interrupting softly. "Who was 'we'?"

"Sorry," Trip said. "Kevin, his girlfriend Sarah, Nora and Dan...well, we called him Dan, but his real name was something unpronounceable Korean. My N'olean friends. One drunken night, we broke into someone's house." Trip's eyes lit up. "God, you should have seen this house. I mean, here I was living in a ruin of a place, but this home was absolutely sumptuous." He took a sip. "It actually had a name, 'The Tiny Bubbles House', it was so frothy. We got chased away before we could do any real damage." He pulled a small package from his pocket, holding it out to Malcolm. "But not before Kevin stole this."

Malcolm's eyes moved from Trip, to the box, then to Trip again.

Trip nodded, eyes flat. He shook the box slightly. "Go ahead, open it."

Malcolm reached out and took it, placing the box on his leg. It was a plain box, no markings, one end already opened. Rummaging through the packing material inside, he pulled out a small, intricately carved ornament. He could see a small hole for thread or a ribbon on one end. An amulet, actually, he thought, or a charm.

"It's beautiful," he said in a soft murmur, moving the object slightly and allowing light to hit its surface; green, shiny, so dark it was almost black. He could see carvings, soft indentations, maybe words carved on it, swirling across both sides, but worn away with handling.

Trip started speaking again. "Kevin died a couple years later. It was a horrible, strange accident—a piece of granite from a monument in D.C. fell off, hitting him." He reached out his hand and Malcolm gave him back the object. "His mom found this in his stuff, and gave it to Sarah. A few years later, Sarah died." Trip stared down at the charm in his hand. "Another strange accident." He looked up. "Before she died, she'd told Dan that weird things had been happening to her. As a joke, she said that she wanted him to have it if she died. So he took it. Then, when he died, it went to Nora."

Trip folded his fingers around the object. "Now it's mine. Nora was killed last week."

"I'm sorry," Malcolm said.

Trip nodded. He smiled oddly, holding the charm up in one hand, his drink still held in the other. "Always knew my time would come. Just didn't realise it would be so soon."

Malcolm blinked in surprise at his last comment. Trip couldn't seriously believe that their deaths and this charm had anything to do with each other. Unsure of exactly what to say, he tried, "Did anyone ever try to return it?"

"Yeah, actually. Nora wrote me...I mean, by the time it got to her, we both suspected that something was up." Trip laughed weakly. "We didn't really believe, but we suspected. So she mailed it to house we stole it from. A week later, the package came back to her; which was odd, if you think about it, because she hadn't included a return address." He paused. "And strange things kept happening to her: one time, she told me that she could have sworn she saw the mirror above her couch lift itself off the wall, hover there for a second, then fall, barely missing her as she jumped up." He shook his head. "Weird stuff."

Malcolm leaned forward. "Do you believe these things are related?"

"I didn't used to. But out here? Stranger things have happened; and when I opened the package and saw this," he said, raising the hand with the charm. He let out a careful breath.

He put the amulet on the desk behind him, then waved his hand dismissively. "Although now, talking about it," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I'm not sure that I really believe—I mean, come on, New Orleans juju magic in space? Sounds like a bad horror movie."

Malcolm laughed, and Trip smiled back at him. "Although New Orleans was an...unusual town," Trip added.

"In what way?" Malcolm asked. "I've never been."

"Well," Trip said pensively. "Let me give you a for example. We used to hang at this bar, the Halloween Lounge. The place was a wreck, with Halloween decorations up year round, just kind of fading into the gloom. It wouldn't even start hoppin' until after midnight, but boy, once it did." He took a sip from his glass, then, over its rim, said, "I went there naked once."

"Pardon?"

Trip nodded. "They had this sort of unwritten rule—anyone in the buff drinks for free. And I was pretty poor at the time." He smiled wickedly. "And thirsty."

"Ah," Malcolm said, covering his surprise by sipping his drink.

"You shocked?"

Malcolm thought a moment, then shook his head. "No. Surprised, but not shocked."

Trip frowned and said, "I did a lot of things back then that I'm ashamed of. Kind of a lost year, if you know what I mean." He looked down at his drink, rolling the glass between his palms. "The follies of youth and all that, I guess." He looked up. "I did eventually go home. Got on the straight-and-narrow, blah blah blah." He leaned forward. "I'd rather you not tell anyone about this, if that's okay."

"Of course."

"And I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

Malcolm looked away. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

Malcolm entered the dim observation lounge. Normally at this early hour there was no one else here, and he liked to sit for a while in the peace and quiet, gathering his thoughts for the day ahead. But this morning was different—Trip sat on the couch, staring out at the stars through the screen in front of him.

Malcolm stepped to his side. "May I join you?"

Trip looked up in surprise, his eyes bleary with lack of sleep. "Sorry, sure. Didn't see you there."

Malcolm sat beside him. "What are you doing up so early?"

Trip yawned. "Sorry. I'm actually still up, couldn't sleep. Too nervous." He turned towards Malcolm. "Weird thing happened today," he said, looking a bit tense. "Sorry, yesterday."

Malcolm nodded.

"I was working on the shuttle, under it, you know?" Trip said in a rush. "It was up on its landing gear, and one of the supports collapsed."

Malcolm hissed in a sharp breath. "Was anyone hurt?"

Trip shook his head. "No. I heard it shift and got out of there."

"What caused it to fall?"

Trip shrugged. "Don't know yet." He returned his gaze to the stars.

After a moment, Malcolm gave voice to the question he knew was on Trip's mind. "Do you think it's related to the amulet?"

Trip hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah," he said, but didn't sound convinced. "Do you?"

Malcolm smiled, trying to comfort him. "No, I don't think so."

Trip nodded, still looking away. "Good."

* * *

"Hess said that you needed to see me?" Malcolm said, reaching the top of the ladder to the catwalk where Trip was working. He cast a quick glance through the grating beneath his feet, down to the floor, a good three metres below.

Trip lowered his arms from the machinery above him and turned to Malcolm. "Yeah, I wanted to show you the latest modifications we've done on..."

The walkway shifted slightly beneath Malcolm's feet, and he missed the rest of what Trip said. He had just enough time to look down, then back up into Trip's panicked eyes before the catwalk gave way and he fell.

* * *

Malcolm's head felt heavy, buzzing with tiredness and pain. Disoriented, he opened his eyes, trying hard to focus through the haze. Someone was talking...

"Malcolm," he heard from beside him, and turned his head in that direction, wincing at the too-sudden movement. After a moment, he could make out Trip, bandage on his forehead, one eye blackened. He tried to focus on his friend, on what he was saying, but it was so hard. His vision swam, and he closed his eyes again.

He thought he heard Trip's voice from nearby, drifting in and out, just beyond the edge of his consciousness. "...Some sort of curse or something..." but he couldn't quite follow what his friend was saying. The voice came again, "...Have to go back..." Then there was quiet, and darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Malcolm felt cloudy, dull with the effects of the painkillers and his injuries from the fall. He shifted in the bed and winced as his vision swam. He tried to focus on one of Phlox's cages across the room, and eventually, his head settled. "Right," he muttered, sitting carefully, then swinging his legs off the side of the biobed. He paused a moment, closing his eyes to regain his equilibrium.

He heard someone step in front of him and opened his eyes to see Hoshi there, frowning.

"What are you doing, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Malcolm looked at her, about to respond when he felt a sudden resurgence of his nausea, and simply groaned instead. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

"Um, maybe you should lie down," she said. "You don't look so good."

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and he nodded, allowing her to help him settle against the pillow. After a moment, his eyes still closed, he was able to ask, "How's Trip?" When Hoshi didn't answer, he opened his eyes and saw her standing there. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"He was released day-before-yesterday," she said, looking uncomfortable.

"So what's wrong?" he asked, his suspicion increasing.

Hoshi shifted, concern marring her features. "I don't want to upset you."

"Just tell me," he said impatiently.

"He was meeting with some engineers on Jupiter station yesterday. He didn't come back." She looked away.

"What? What happened?"

Hoshi returned her gaze to his, her eyes showing her confusion. "He took off, disappeared. From what we can tell, he did it on purpose. He's AWOL," she said in amazement. "The Captain's furious."

"Has he filed a report yet?"

She shook her head. "No. But if Trip doesn't contact us, or show up soon..."

Malcolm nodded, closing his eyes against the headache. "Hoshi, I need to speak with the Captain."

"Now's not a very good time..."

"I may know how to find him," he said quietly.

* * *

Malcolm cradled the glass of beer between his hands, sliding it slightly in the condensation that had formed on the dark table. He kept looking up from it and towards the door, the one well-lit area in the dark bar, which was otherwise illuminated solely by means of the small, orange, pumpkin-shaped lights flickering around him in the darkness.

The lights were the nicest thing about the place, he thought as he took in the otherwise forgettable dcor. It was a tiny shack of a place, sad despite its gaudy decorations; giving off a sort of a sleezy Halloween vibe. The room was basically empty, it being too early for a crowd yet. Still, best the bar was dark and empty, he thought. His head still hurt despite Phlox's drugs, and he wasn't sure how he would have coped if the pub had been more crowded and loud. And he knew he looked rough; best not to be seen.

And anyway, he wasn't here to socialise.

Malcolm nursed his beer, terrible stuff, cheap and extremely American. He took a small sip then glanced up as the door opened. He locked eyes with the person entering: Trip.

Trip raised one single eyebrow, acknowledging him, then turned to the bar, holding up two fingers. After a moment, he walked to Malcolm's table with two beers in dark brown bottles.

"Hey," he said, sitting in the chair across from Malcolm and sliding one bottle towards his friend. "Nice clothes."

Malcolm cast a glance down at his outfit: black jeans and a jumper, then back to Trip. "And yours as well."

Trip shrugged, holding out one arm to display his loud shirt to its full potential. "Felt I had to dress for the occasion." Dropping his arm, he looked carefully at Malcolm. "You look like shit."

"Thanks."

"Phlox let you out?"

Malcolm nodded, taking a careful drink. "I didn't leave him much choice."

"I actually figured I might see you here." Trip took a sip from his bottle. "Archer send you?"

"I asked to come."

"He mad?"

"Well, you did go AWOL."

"Not precisely," Trip replied. "I requested leave. I just left before it came through."

Malcolm shook his head. "The Captain is quite angry."

"I can imagine," Trip said, leaning back in his chair. "But what could I say? 'I'm taking leave to go to New Orleans to return some property that I stole back when I'd dropped out of school and was living there, doped to the gills and stealing to support my evil ways?'" He looked down at his bottle, and started peeling away one edge of the label. "That'd be a bit of a mind-fuck for him. Not quite the Trip he knows and loves." He looked up. With forced brightness, he said, "Oh, and by the way, the amulet is cursed." He shook his head. "He'd think I'd lost my mind."

Malcolm nodded. "I suppose he would."

Trip leaned across the table. "I'm not nuts."

"I didn't think that you were." Malcolm took a sip of the beer. "So why did you leave so suddenly?"

"Listen," Trip said, motioning with the bottle. "It's one thing if this is affecting me. It's another thing entirely when it almost kills one of my friends."

"Trip..." Malcolm said, trying to interrupt.

"I had to come down here, try to take care of this."

"And have you?"

"Not yet," Trip said, raising his bottle. "I wanted a bit of a drink first, in familiar surroundings. Shore up some false courage."

"And after that?"

Trip took a gulp from his bottle, finishing it. "Back to the Tiny Bubbles House. See if I can return that which is rightfully theirs."


	5. Chapter 5

Trip walked ahead of Malcolm, opening the black metal gate with a creak, allowing Malcolm to pass through into the front garden. Malcolm looked up through the greenery and caught sight of the house up the path, the lights from within casting enough of a glow in the dark night to illuminate some of the facade. It was a beautiful house, in its own way, but, yes, 'frothy' was a good word to describe it; it was layers of white, detail upon detail, balconies and balustrades. Trip walked past him, approaching the porch, and Malcolm stood there a moment in the garden, the night soft on his cheeks. He sniffed in the scent of damp and decay so common in this town and saw flickering lights moving about in the grass: fireflies.

He heard a doorbell chime from the porch and turned to see Trip there, shifting nervously. Malcolm skipped up the several steps and stood just behind him as the porch light flicked on and the door opened, revealing an older woman, white hair piled high on her head. He could hear the soft sounds of music coming from somewhere inside as she stood there, framed by the bright lights behind her.

"Yes? May I help you?" she asked, her accent gentle; and quite different, to his ears, from Trip's.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, ma'am," Trip replied, his voice shaking slightly. "Did you live here about fifteen, twenty years ago?"

The woman nodded, seeming a bit wary.

"I believe I have something of yours," Trip said softly, holding out one hand towards her. He unfurled his fingers, revealing the amulet.

The woman looked at the object, then back at Trip, her eyes wide with surprise. Tentatively, she reached out and plucked it from his palm. "I'd thought that this was gone forever," she said, wrapping her fingers around it. Her expression turned sharp. "How did you get it?"

"I stole it," Trip said, his gaze steady despite the blush creeping across his cheeks. Nervously, he quickly added, "Well, my friend stole it, but I was there, and knew about it." He took a breath, making a visible effort to calm down. "I've come here to return it..."

"Finally," she said, interrupting.

Trip smiled apprehensively. "I am so sorry."

The woman watched him suspiciously. "Are you still doing that sort of stuff?"

"No, ma'am," he said. "It was sort of a temporary idiocy."

Her eyes moved to Malcolm. "He being truthful?"

Malcolm nodded and said, "Yes."

"We've all had our indiscretions," she said, looking down at the amulet. After a long moment, she returned her gaze to Trip. "Some, more than others, can really come back to bite you in the ass."

She said this lightly in tone, but something in her eyes made Malcolm think that she knew something that she wasn't explicitly stating.

Trip nodded solemnly. "Absolutely." He hesitated. "Will things be all right now?" he asked in a quiet voice.

The woman nodded. "Yes," she said. "It should be happy to be home. You should be all right now."

Trip smiled genuinely. "Thank you."

She smiled back. "You're welcome. Now get off my porch."

Trip laughed. "Yes'm."

* * *

"Do you think she knew?" Malcolm asked as Trip closed the gate behind them.

As they began walking down the street, towards the trolley stop, Trip nodded. "She seemed to know something. I didn't feel like she caused it or anything, but she seemed to know something."

Peering at his friend from the corner of his eye, Malcolm asked, "What are you going to tell the Captain?"

"The truth, I think," Trip said. He stopped walking and turned to Malcolm, eyes hidden in the darkness. "That I had to return something important to someone, and it couldn't wait."

"He may want more of an explanation than that."

"I know," Trip said with a sigh. "I guess I'll have to deal with all that once I get back."

"Once you get back?" Malcolm asked, emphasising the first word in surprise.

Trip nodded, smiling rakishly. "Sure," he said with a shrug. "Listen, I'm already AWOL, sort of." He looked around them, taking in the street, busy even at this late hour. "It's the middle of the night, anyway." He threw out his arms. "And we're in New Orleans."

Malcolm hesitated.

"Come on, Malcolm," Trip said, stepping closer, closing the distance between them. "Come with me."

"Now?"

Trip nodded. "Now," he said softly. Then, with a small wince, he said, "At least then I won't be able to blow you off again."

Malcolm looked down at ground, at his feet, anywhere but at Trip.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," Trip said. "I'm an idiot. I was just...I don't know what I was just." He sighed. "I'd like to try to make it up to you, if you'll let me."

Malcolm nodded vaguely, but he still didn't look up. He was unsure if he was willing...He felt Trip take his hand and he could feel the contact, electric, and he gasped.

"Please, can we try this again?" Trip asked.

Malcolm raised his eyes to Trip's. Trip had moved slightly, throwing his face into the light, and his eyes burned with the depth of his feeling. Malcolm stood there, frozen. He was unsure, but...he closed his eyes for a brief moment, and felt his resolve melt.

"All right," he replied in a whisper.

Trip tugged his hand gently. As they walked away, hand-in-hand, Malcolm thought, "Who's the idiot now?"


End file.
